


Home

by Featherfire



Category: Free!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherfire/pseuds/Featherfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short thing inspired by episode 13 of Eternal Summer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Contains some spoilers for the last few episodes of Eternal Summer.

Makoto lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Heart aching, stomach in knots, he knew sleep wouldn't be coming for a long time---if at all.

_You should sleep,_ he thought. _You need as much rest as you can get. These are important days._

The National championship. Had he---had _they---_ really come so far? Nagisa's silly little swim club... in two days they would be swimming at Nationals. Had the four of them really come this far?

That was the problem. That was why Makoto couldn't sleep. Right now, it wasn't the four of them. It was three.

He'd emailed Rin in desperation. _Can you please talk to Haru? I can't get through to him..._ Rin, it seemed, could make Haru actually _think..._ Rin was always the one who got Haru to do things even when he resisted, when Makoto himself always just went along with whatever Haru wanted... that was all he knew how to do.

Except this time. This time, circumstances forced Makoto to make his own decisions---and what had it earned him? Haru, his Haru, angrier than Makoto had ever seen him, yelling at his closest friend, repudiating him...

Makoto swallowed hard and bit his lip to keep it from trembling. _Don't cry. Don't cry. He doesn't hate you. Calm down. He's just having a really tough time of things right now. He could never hate you. Right?_

But the memory of Haru's face that night hurt so much. He'd been angry, yes, but beneath that there had been hurt---betrayal---and _fear._

Haru was lost, and Haru was _scared._ Haru, who wasn't afraid of anything, who always protected (much larger) Makoto from everything.

So he'd emailed Rin, hoping that Rin could succeed where everyone else failed.

Makoto never expected _Australia._ And more than that, he never expected Haru to actually agree to go. Australia, of all places! It wasn't that far---they could have gone to America!---but Haru had never left Japan before. Haru did not like to venture out of his comfort zone. Haru didn't even like to venture out of his bathtub.

_Relax_ Makoto told himself. _He's with Rin. Rin will take care of him._

He took a slow, deep breath.

_Please, Rin. Please help him._

*****

Thank god, Japan. All around him, people speaking Japanese, words he could understand without thought, strung together in sentences with a structure that made _sense._

He never thought he'd be so glad just to hear spoken Japanese.

His relief faded when he heard the familiar voice calling their names, quickly replaced by a rush of fear and guilt so powerful it made him feel sick.

Makoto. Makoto, his best friend, the one who always stood by him no matter what, even when he tried to push him away, like he had the other day on the hill.

Makoto, who came to get them at the airport without even being asked... selfless, generous, kind-hearted Makoto.

"You came all this way to meet us?" Rin said, surprised but obviously touched.

Makoto smiled. "You must be tired after your trip," he replied. He turned his smile to Haru.

Makoto was smiling at him? After the things he'd said the last time they spoke?

_Say it. Just say it. Apologize. You were awful to him. All he ever did was try to be your friend and you said those awful things..._

He couldn't. He couldn't do it. Especially not here, with all these people around, but especially in front of Rin.

Haru looked away, focusing on the carpet, on his shoes, on Rin's hand resting on the strap of his backpack---anywhere but at Makoto's face.

"Haru."

That gentle voice, so familiar and so comforting, so full of affection in just the two syllables of his name... his heart hurt. With an effort, he looked up, into the vibrant green eyes.

"Welcome home."

Haru's eyes widened. The forgiveness---and the _love---_ in Makoto's voice was clear. Haru looked away again, gathering himself, then slowly looked at Makoto again. "I'm home," he murmured.

Home. It wasn't Japan. It wasn't even Iwatobi.

Home was Makoto.


End file.
